


Numb

by howverycliche



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:35:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howverycliche/pseuds/howverycliche
Summary: Can David Budd ever accept that Julia Montague, his secret lover, is really dead?What does recovery really mean when you can't accept that there is a problem?
Relationships: David Budd/Julia Montague
Comments: 14
Kudos: 50





	1. Three Hundred and Sixty Five Days.

**Author's Note:**

> So, inspired by madamehomesecretary, I decided to try my hand at some Bodyguard fanfiction!
> 
> I'm totally obsessed with Julia and David and so it really didn't take much to make me start, lol 😂 .
> 
> ANYWAYS, please do let me know what you think and do the usual kudos/comment/theorise.
> 
> Much lovesss
> 
> twitter: @howveryarnott
> 
> x
> 
> PS. any fans of my Line of Duty fanfic "A Credible Threat to Life", I haven't forgotten about it just got a wee bitty of Writer's Block. 
> 
> PSS. if you haven't read my LOD fanfic you totally should 😉

** DAY 365 **

12 months. 52 weeks. It had been 365 days since the explosion at St Matthew’s College and a lot had happened since then. He’d visited the police’s occupational therapist for a couple of weeks after _that_ day and he’d tried so hard to convince, not only Michelle, his therapist, but also himself that he was alright. He’d been open with her at first but eventually he’d shut back down. She had of course believed that he was getting better and he was in some ways, just not in the same ways she understood. But when he’d left her care, his pain was still there, his heart ached more than ever and his mind was heavy, a deep cloud hanging over his every move, his every thought. But at least he had regained the strength to at least pretend he was alright. He supposed it had been somewhat of a success when he’d been discharged. At least that’s how he saw it at the time. But it wasn’t. He had felt some sense of achievement when he was told he would be restored to active duty. But it wasn’t. He had felt as if things would get better. But they didn’t.

** DAY 112 **

Four months after that fateful day and finally the day had arrived. Finally he was getting back to work. He was sure he should feel happy that morning when he woke up in the spare bedroom of the family home. He was sure that he should feel relieved to have something to focus on and to be allowed to return to work but he didn’t feel relief. In fact, he wasn’t sure he felt much at all. His physical wounds – cuts, scrapes, bruises – they had healed in the days and weeks after that day but his mental wounds cut far deeper under the surface. He had forced himself to get out of bed and to finally pull out his suit, tie and ballistics vest. He knew he should feel relief but all he felt was afraid. Maybe of facing his demons, maybe of himself or maybe he was afraid to return to the commons? He had tried so hard not to associate everything with _her_ but in a place full of people like _her_ , people who behaved like _her,_ worked like _her,_ he knew it wouldn’t be possible. He knew he’d look at the doorways _she_ walked through, the spots _she’d_ talk with her aides, **_her_** spot on the front bench. The thought that someone else would be in _her_ spot made his blood boil. It wasn’t fair.

He’d made it down to the kitchen where his two children were sat at the dining table having their breakfast before school. He supposed the one good thing to arise from the situation, if there were any positives, was that he could spend more time with his kids. In theory of course, that was how it should have been but he’d been a husk of his former self since moving in. His children, though resilient, had become aware that their dad had changed. They were children and so of course they had tried to shower him with love, hugs and kisses in the hope that that would help. They were young but they weren’t stupid, they could tell he was hurting.

“Morning Daddy,” Ella spoke, breaking the silence. He looked at her and for a second to register what she had said but he didn’t speak and instead he extended his hand and ruffled her hair softly before doing the same to his son. Vicky turned from where she was filling the washing machine and shot a glare towards him as he lowered himself onto a seat between the two children. Vicky had been understanding at first, she’d been patient with him during his therapy but her patience was wearing thin. She wasn’t as resilient as her children.

“Come on kids, go get your shoes on,” she said, ushering the children from the table and out of the room.

“What the fuck David?” she uttered quietly after she was sure that the children had left the room. He looked up at her as he grabbed a slice of toast from the caddy in the centre of the table. He glared at her momentarily but he chose to remain silent as he looked way from her to reach for the butter dish. She grabbed it before he could though and it forced him to look up at her, this time his annoyance clear in the frown adorning his face.

“What is it Vicky?” He seethed, a little annoyed at her interruption. She scoffed at him and shook her head, dropping the butter back onto the table.

“Dave, I thought going back to work was a good thing for you?” She asked, settling down next to him. She focused her eyes on his frame trying to at least be understanding. It was progress, she thought, that at least, he was dressed. He watched as she sat down and shot him a pitying stare.

“It is,” he replied nonchalantly, looking away from her to spread his toast. She looked away and let out a soft sigh. It had been a long couple of months and despite her caring nature, she was at her wits end.

“It’s just…”

He turned to look at her again, noticing her unsure tone.

“David, I just thought that going back to the work… I thought it’d give you something to focus on?” she spoke softly and extended a soft, comforting touch to his arm. At least that’s what she’d intended. He glanced at her hand on his arm for a moment, its soft presence the first time someone had dared touch him for months. People had begun to treat him, not as a person but as a firework – dangerous and unpredictable – and he’d started to believe that.

“For fuck’s sake Vicky!” he erupted, violently pushing his chair back sending it crashing to the ground. “I’m not your third child!” he yelledd before grabbing his phone from the table. She stood from her chair in shock. She didn’t really know what to say; she hadn’t seen him like that for a while. She stood in silence as he charged out of the room and she felt frozen to the ground until her two terrified children ran into the room to cling to her, though their tears were drowned out by the slamming of the house’s front door.

He never did make it to work that day.

** DAY 209 ** ****

It had been a warm summers day when it finally happened. He had been signed off work ever since the accident. As each and every day passed, he became more and more distant. A few months earlier, Vicky had finally asked him to leave the family home, declaring that he could no longer see his kids. It had hurt, somewhere under his numbness but he hadn’t fought her. He was tired of fighting himself. He didn’t need to fight her too. But ever since moving back into his own flat, he found himself alone with his own thoughts and it hadn’t been good. The police had tried to get him to see a therapist again. Vicky had tried too but he had his own agenda. She even tried letting him see the children but nothing could settle his racing, troubled mind. In the end, Vicky had called Debbie, David’s mother. She thought mothering would help him to move on.

But Tuesday 1st of June was proof that David didn’t need Vicky, or work, or his mother.

* * *

David had left home early that day, before his mother awoke, he was gone. He didn’t sleep well these days. _She_ was always on his mind. He thought of _her_ in the day and she was in his nightmare whenever he managed to get some sleep. It was the home office building he had headed to that morning. He was finally ready to face it.

“Sergeant! Sergeant Budd!”

David forced his way into the home office building, and he’d ignored the calls of the government aide from the door who had followed on behind him. She’d attracted attention by calling out his name. He didn’t pay any attention to the woman though and he charged through the building and attempted to head towards the stairs.

“Security!” the woman called, running towards the police on the ground floor. She gasped for air, pointing towards David heading to the stairs. “Someone stop him!”

“Ma’am, PS Budd is a vetted police officer,” one of the constables replied. The other officers hadn’t been told much about Budd’s fate. They just assumed he’d been reassigned after the St Matthew’s attack. Of course the odd rumour had spread but nothing more. The woman stepped closer to male officer who appeared unphased by David’s entrance.

“Budd’s on medical leave. He’s off his trotter,” she whispered to the armed officer. He had the same trademark poker face David had once held and yet the woman could tell, when he nodded to his colleague and they raced after David, she knew she was right to be alarmed.

* * *

David had raced up the stairs to the second floor of the building that he’d come to know so well. When he pushed his way through the door the lobby everyone had been calm in juxtaposition to him. He was on a mission. He had a determined fire burning in his eyes that clouded his vision. He didn’t see the shock of his former colleagues when he charged into the lobby of the second floor.

“Where is she?” he shouted, his eyes darting around the room before settling on the glass office that had once belonged to her. For the first time in months, the sight of the glass room made his heart hurt. He felt his breathing laboured, maybe from running up three flights of stairs, or maybe because he was back here, here in _her_ place after all this time.

“Sergeant Budd,” David turned to look at the officer who’d spoken his name. It was then as he turned that he saw the whole office had come to a standstill. Everyone had stopped what they were doing around him. Some of them, people he knew, looked at him with the pitying look he so despised. Some looked pissed off that their day had been interrupted. The officers though, they looked unsure and he knew, from his own experiences, they wanted to know his motive. “Where is who?” the officer asked.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air, letting out an angry laugh. The room stood still for a second and David took it as his moment, turned his back and marched his way towards the glass office where the new Home Secretary was. “Where the fuck is she?” he yelled angrily as he pushed the door open.

“What are you doing in my office!”

“Sergeant Budd! Stand down!”

David turned from his spot in the office and he saw the officers from before who had tried to apprehend him before. Only this time, they had their weapons drawn. He knew he should stand down; he knew the sight of their firearms should scare the living shit out of him and sure, he felt his heart stammer against his ribcage and it hurt but it didn’t hurt any more than usual.

“I- I can’t,” he stuttered, his strong persona finally faltering. He shifted his gaze from the officers and to the new home secretary, who’d shifted himself into the corner of the room, as far as he could from David. He looked afraid. Everyone did. “Why can nobody see what’s going on here?!”

One of the officers approached him and as the woman appeared closer he could see she looked more understanding, more kind, “what can’t we see, David?”

“J-Julia,” he shouted, pushing paper’s off the desk of the new home secretary, riffling through them. “Where is she?” he cried out, finally allowing the tears to spill from his eyes. He felt so tired of fighting it.

“Sergeant! Stand down!”

It was one of the armed officers who had called for him to stop. The two armed officers had stepped into the office and besides them, and David’s anguish, the only other sound that could he heard was the flailing stationery that he sent flying from the table.

“David,” the woman uttered softly, coming up within touching distance of him, “David, Julia… she’s dead,” the woman continued, before placing her hand on his back in the same, pitying way that everyone touched him these days, “you won’t find her here.”

“Don’t touch me!” he yelled, pushing the woman’s hand away from his back. He had been so shocked, so consumed by the hold of grief that his swift movement sent the woman hurtling towards the floor. His strength took even him by surprise and as he watched the woman tumble to the ground, he felt his life flash before his eyes. His jaw dropped and he instantly felt clammy. He closed his eyes and he let his laboured breathing consume his tired body. He fell to his knees upon a pile of confidential documents and wept as he anticipated the AFOs pulling their triggers on him.

“AFOs stand down!”

And in a split second, the armed officers withdrew their weapons at the instruction of their commander, Anne Sampson who was followed by a fearful, petite, older woman and two others. Anne conferred with the two armed officers before gesturing to David who was on his knees sobbing. The older woman stepped closer to David, standing across from him.

“David… son,” Debbie uttered in a calm, motherly tone. He looked up towards her and for a split second she allowed herself to think that he was a little boy again, upset because he’d lost his favourite action man but she had to remind herself that he was an adult now. Broken, scared and alone. She knelt down next to him and he collapsed into her arms, finally allowing his emotions to spill out.

“She’s not dead, mum,” he whimpered, clinging on to her much like he had as a boy.

“Oh son,” she sighed. She didn’t really know what else to say, she didn’t want to upset her distraught son any more. Instead, she rubbed soft circles on his back and turned to the two men, clad head to toe in green and nodded towards them. It was time everyone admitted that David didn’t need Vicky, or work, or his mother. He needed professional help.

On that day, Tuesday 1st of June, under the Mental Health Act, David Budd was sectioned.

** DAY 365 ** ****

It’d been a week since he’d been discharged from the secure unit he’d called home for one hundred and forty nine days. He couldn’t say he felt “cured” – he still had moments where he was consumed by thoughts about Julia or thoughts about his days back in Helmand. There were still times where he allowed himself to consider the “what ifs” of the day Julia died or if she’d still be here if he’d done certain things differently but he was learning to live again. The hospital had taught him how to cope with the feelings and for the first time since before he went to Helmand with the army, he was talking about his feelings again. He had even started to see his children again. For the first time in as long as he could remember he felt in control of his life again and today, on the anniversary of her death, he felt strong enough to admit that she wasn’t coming back.

That day, on the anniversary of her death, his mum, who had decided to stay on in London as long as he needed, drove him to Julia’s resting place to finally say his goodbyes. He was grateful that she’d stayed and even more so for her support. He was getting there with his mental health but the help of his mum seemed to make every step of his recovery that little bit easier. She was by his side comforting him, when he settled the bunch of tulips across the grave. She held him tightly when the tears slipped down his face. One year ago, he’d have been ashamed to cry in front of his mother but now, standing next to Julia’s resting place, as he looked back on their time together and the last year he thought maybe, just maybe it was okay to cry.

** Day 366 ** ****

But it didn’t take David long to realise, _things are not always as they seem_.


	2. Long Gone and Moved On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> David reaches the next step in his recovery – it's time to reconnect with Charlie and Ella in a trip to London Zoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo!
> 
> Thank you so much for the lovely response to chapter one! To be honest I've been itching to update since but I kinda didn't have a plan after the first chapter so it was sorta hard to update 😂 . Anyway I'm still not 100% happy with this chapter but half the time when i'm not happy with a chapter it's actually alright 😂 😂 😂 .
> 
> So please let me know what you think?! I do love a good comment and such! Thanks again for your previous comment and kudos – it means a lot!
> 
> twitter: @howveryarnott 
> 
> x
> 
> PS. The entire chapter is inspired by the song "Lone Gone and Moved On" which is basically my idea of David's recovery in musical form :) x
> 
> PPS. Culter is pronounced "coo-ter" (rhymes with scooter)

** Day 366 ** ****

Today was a big day for David Budd. He was finally getting to spend some time with his two children. Of course, he’d seen them since the day he was taken away from the Home Office in an Ambulance. He’d seen them during his stay at the hospital too. Vicky didn’t like to take them to the hospital often and the stronger he got, the more it hurt but of course, he did understand. When he’d first arrived at the unit, he’d been a mere husk of his former self. Whilst he’d let his mum comfort him and guide him into the ambulance, that was as far as his cooperation had gone that day. It had broken his elderly mother’s heart when he was taken into the hospital, begging her not to leave him there, begging her not to let them take him. He’d been so ill the doctors had decided that he was too ill to make decisions for himself. Deep down, he knew Vicky had been right to keep the kids away. It had been for their own good. He was sure it would have been tough for them to see their father at rock bottom. But today, finally he would have his children for the afternoon. His mum would be there too. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. It gave him hope.

Debbie knew her son well enough to know that no matter how much he tried to hide it, he was nervous to take the kids out today. He was quiet whilst she drove the two of them to Vicky’s house to pick the children up. It didn’t really surprise her – it’d been more than nine months since he’d spent any time with the children without Vicky there and more than a year since he’d taken them out. He’d been so wrapped up in himself and in his own pain, he hadn’t had space for his children too. She knew he felt angry at himself and no matter how much she, or Vicky or any therapist tried to tell him he hadn’t, he still felt he’d failed his children. The kids certainly didn’t agree. Today, alongside his mother, David was taking Charlie and Ella to London Zoo. For his son, who loved animals going to the zoo was an exciting adventure. For Ella, a major daddy’s girl, it would be a chance to rebuild her bond with her dad which had been so strong before Helmand and his time with Julia. They were too young to understand the things that had happened to David. They were so young when he went to war and his PTSD was too much for them to understand but they knew he had been ill. Vicky had been so sure they understood that this wasn’t his fault.

** Day 209 ** ****

Debbie’s heart felt like it was being torn apart right in front of her very eyes on that fateful day. It had been so hard to see her son so broken but she knew he needed her to be strong for him. On the outside he was strong and tall and muscular, and to those who didn’t know him, he was the epitome of masculinity but for his family, they knew he was a broken shell of his former self. She tried not to be terrified when she saw him surrounded by loaded guns, after all, he’d forced his way into a government building and then he’d destroyed the office of the Home Secretary – she knew he was lucky not to have been shot. Her heart shattered that little bit more the way his hands gripped her shirt and the way the sobs ripped through his body unashamedly like the waves of a rough sea, over and over. He clung to her like he had as a child and she was sure he was as vulnerable as when he had been a baby. It had taken her many a softly spoken encouragement and a lot of reassurances before he even considered talking to the paramedics, never mind getting him into the ambulance. It hadn’t been far to the nearest hospital and Debbie was glad. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep up the pretence of strength for her boy. She’d never admit to him in the state he was in but she was terrified. Even when he’d come back from Helmand, sure he had struggled but she’d never seen him as broken as this.

“Right David, we’re here.”

David’s anxious gaze settled on his mother who sat across from him in the ambulance. He didn’t really understand why he was there. He wasn’t crazy, he didn’t need this. But he felt powerless and hopeless and it was what his mother wanted and yet as they pulled up outside the hospital, he knew it wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted to go back to that day, he wanted to stop Julia appearing at St Matthew’s, he wanted to stop her getting hurt. He just wanted Julia and he hated… he hated everything for taking her from him. He hated his job, he even hated her for leaving him but most of all, he hated himself.

“Please don’t make me go in there, mum,” he whimpered, his voice full of desperation and laced with vulnerable petulance. She stood from her chair and cupped her son’s face, wiping the tears away from his eyes with her thumb.

“It’s for the best David,” she replied, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Instantly he shook his head over and over.

“Mum….mum…please…” he begged her. She so desperately wished that she could help him, that he didn’t need doctors. She so wished that a mother’s love could fix his broken heart. But it couldn’t.

“I’m sorry son…”  
  
In that moment, Debbie was sure that for as long as she lived, she’d never forget the helpless, terrified, lonely look in his eyes the minute she pulled away from her son and let the paramedics do their job. She’d never forget the desperate begging he did as he was carted away from her. She’d never forget the silence that had followed when he’d been wheeled away, begging and literally kicking and screaming. She hadn’t been able to look.

** Day 366 ** ****

It was thinking back on the day her son had been sectioned that made Debbie understand why, even if it hadn’t been his fault, David felt like he’d failed his children. She’d felt so very inadequate that day. It wasn’t long before they were both pulled from their thoughts when she parked outside Vicky’s home. She reached out and ruffled her son’s hair and, no matter how old he was, she always got the same response.

“Mum!” he laughed softly, pulling himself away from her reach playfully. He smiled towards her though, grateful of the distraction. She smiled back at him and stared at him for a brief moment and her gaze didn’t go unnoticed. “What?”

“I’m just so proud of you, son.”

It had only been seven words but it had been everything he needed to hear.

* * *

“Daddy, look, look! It’s Simba!”

David smiled at his young son as he dragged him to the enclosure where the lions were. He was relieved his children were having a whale of a time and for the first time in a really long time, he felt happy too. His son’s loving nature and wholesome innocence melted his heart. He’d dragged David around and had excitedly identified every single animal in the zoo. He supposed it should be annoying but it warmed his cockles. It reminded him that he wasn’t the failure he’d so convinced himself that he was. Ella had let Charlie guide her dad through the zoo and she instead explored the zoo a few metres behind with her grandma.

“Charlie!” Ella shouted to her younger brother who turned from the lion enclosure to face his sister and grandma. “Look! It’s a giraffe!”

Giraffes were Charlie’s favourite animal and his eyes lit up as he followed where Ella was pointing to in amazement. He look from the giraffe and then back to his dad.

“Race ya!” David grinned and the little boy returned the grin before running towards the enclosure with his sister. David followed on slowly, meeting alongside his mum who offered him a small smile and a pat on the small of his back. It was a silent gesture but he understood her supportive touch.

“Come on Daddy!” Charlie shouted, “I beat you!”

David chuckled softly and sauntered over to where his two kids stood, ruffling their hair which annoyed them in a similar way it had him earlier that day.

* * *

It wasn’t long before Charlie had managed to convince David that if he put his son on his shoulders, he’d be able to reach the giraffes to pet them.

“I can’t reach Daddy!” Charlie groaned as he tried to reach the nose of the animal which must have been at least three metres above his head.

“I told you so, silly!” Ella insisted in her big sisterly tone. David chuckled at the two of them as he lowered his son back to the ground.

“Maybe next time big man,” David suggested, feigning a promising look which seemed to placate his son. It did the trick and instead the two kids wondered off in front towards the stall selling candy floss. “Here mum,” he said, fishing into his pocket for his wallet, handing it to her. “Can you get them something? I need to nip to the toilet.”

He knew it shouldn’t shock him when she looked unsure of his behaviour, goodness he’d only been eight days since he’d been discharged from a secure hospital, but it still hurt to think that at thirty two years old, his mother was suspicious of his actions.

“Mum, I just need a pee. I promise I won’t be long.”

His reassurances seemed to work and she took the wallet from him as he wondered off in search of a toilet. It felt odd, telling her where he was going but he didn’t grudge her caring for him. He felt contented though and he was sure his blissful happiness was written all over his face even as he tried to navigate his way around the park. It would probably have pissed off the old David but he was so blissfully pleased with the success of the day, he didn’t think anything or anyone could bring them down. Until he saw her.

And in the moment he set eyes on her, he felt the happiness instantly and it was replaced by a dizzying confusion and anger and a fear he hadn’t felt since the day he was sectioned. Though he wasn’t sure if he was afraid of her or for her. It wasn’t long before her eyes caught a glimpse of his and immediately he could see the colour wash from her face. She stood, rooted to the spot for a moment and, when she realised he wasn’t going to let her go easily, she tried to calmly walk away from him. _Stupid bitch_ David thought to himself as he followed swiftly behind her. It wasn’t long before he caught up with her and dragged her into a quiet, dark, hidden corner of the park. He wasn’t as strong as he once had been and yet she knew better than to fight him and she _certainly_ knew better than to scream.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” he seethed, pinning the young woman against the wall. He wasn’t a bad person, ordinarily he’d feel awful pushing a young twenty-something year old aginst a wall but for her? For her he _certainly_ didn’t feel bad.

“D-David…” she stuttered, clearly afraid. “How are you?” He scoffed at her attempts to calm him down.

“I’ve just spent one hundred and forty miserable days being patronised by the professionals. Don’t you even _try_ to calm me down, Chanel,” he spat towards the young woman, the venom in his voice clear.

“I’m sorry,” she replied dejectedly and for once David thought that maybe, deep down, she really meant it.

“Sorry won’t bring Julia back!” he groaned, pushing the woman further against the wall, their bodies only centimetres apart.

“There… There’s something you need to know…” she stuttered, turning her face away from David’s whose hot breath and angry eyes sent shivers down her spine. He watched as she reached into her pocket and pulled her phone out. Fairly certain she wasn’t going to try and escape, he stepped back a little and allowed her to search through the device. It wasn’t long before she forwarded an address to David’s number. He looked down at his own phone as a text appeared from Chanel

_From: +44 7654 892314_

_Cottage One  
_ _Inverculter_  
_Scotland  
_ _IV06 8FG_

He looked at her with a furrowed brow and frustrated confusion written across his face. “What is this?” he huffed, pushing his phone back inside his pocket.

“You’re not crazy, David…”

“Right. I’m glad you’ve cleared that up Doc,” he replied in annoyance. He shook his head and turned away from her and began to walk away.

**“It’s Julia.”**

That got him to turn back immediately.

“That’s where she is.”

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” he growled, heading back towards the young woman. She shook her head and the fear in her eyes told him that this was no joke.

**“She’s not dead…”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how long it took me, a Scot, to come up with a fake place name in Scotland roll 😂 . Turns out we literally reuse the terms Inver, Aber, Ness, Dee, Don, etc 😂 😂 
> 
> Thanks fo reaaaaading 😘


	3. But She Never Left My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How is David coping after hearing Chanel's bombshell. Is Chanel telling the truth or will her menacing lead him, not to Julia but straight back to hospital?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guysss 😊 
> 
> So I totally cannot get enough of writing this! It's so addictive haha. Anyway I just wanted to say I really appreciate the comments they really mean a lot and they really encourage me to write more.
> 
> There may be a bit of a delay for the next chapter. I am determined to add another chapter to my LOD fanfic, Steve's been on that cold hard ground for too long 😂. I also have a 3500 word essay due next Friday 😬 so better start writing that........... lol. Whilst you're waiting might I recommend you check out said Line of Duty fanfic? "A Credible Threat to life" 😉 .
> 
> Muchas gracias as always guys and gals 💓 x
> 
> PS. I am getting there with this!!!!!!! 😉 
> 
> Song: If You See Kay – The Script

David could barely gather his thoughts as he walked away from where he’d spoken to Chanel. Just as he’d been coming to terms with the events of the past year, just as he’d finally began to accept Julia’s death, Chanel appeared and dropped _that_ bombshell and suddenly he felt as if his progress had been dented or worse… erased. The words of the young woman kept repeating over and over in his mind _it’s Julia, she’s not dead._ The idea of _his_ Julia still living… he almost didn’t want to allow himself to consider it. For one, he didn’t ever want to be as ill as he had been. He never wanted to go back to that hospital. It didn’t matter though that he didn’t _want_ to think about her. It didn’t work like that. Despite all the therapy he’d been to, he had decided it would always hurt to think about her. He wasn’t sure how he could have fallen so hard so quickly but he had and that was that. He’d spent so much time and effort working on his trauma and accepting that she wasn’t coming back that even the slightest possibility that she was still alive really felt like a bitter pill to swallow.

“David! There you are!”

He was taken from where he’d be staring at the address on his phone by the high pitched sound of his mother’s voice. He could hear an unsteadiness to her voice which was accompanied by a sigh of relief. He quickly pushed his phone back into his pocket and looked, almost apologetically to his concerned mum. His heart ached a little at the sight of his two children who were sat together on a bench, comparing the plushies bought for them whilst they’d waited for their father. David deduced from their empty candyfloss buckets that he’d been gone longer than he’d thought.

“Sorry, the queue was murder,” he stated nonchalantly. He could see she wanted to quiz him more and he really didn’t blame her but he really, _really_ didn’t want to go there. Instead, he turned to his kids, “Right kids, time for the penguin show?”

He could feel the burn of his mother’s concerned eyes beating down on him. He just hoped she wouldn’t ask questions. So much had changed since he’d been at the secure hospital and he just couldn’t be sure he could tell her about what Chanel had said and worse still, he wasn’t sure he could tell her that he thought maybe there was a chance that it could be true. Just maybe.

* * *

David tried to keep up the pretence of strength for the rest of the day with the kids at the zoo and on the journey home. He fooled the kids who were so enthralled and excited by the show that they didn’t notice that David had gone quiet. They didn’t notice him checking his phone or his eyes darting around the auditorium. They didn’t notice his restless legs and constant fidgeting. But Debbie did. She knew her son better than she ever had and she could tell that something was bothering him. Their journey home had been quiet and with the kids sleeping in the back of the car, it’d probably been quiet enough for her to bring it up and yet as she drove the children back to Vicky’s house, she couldn’t bear the thought that there was a chance they’d hear her ask him. The children had been so happy and they’d had such a wonderful day. Charlie had been so excited that morning when they’d picked them up he’d been shaking when David strapped him into his car seat. As for Ella, Debbie knew she understood a little more. She was mature, head-strong and independent and yet Debbie had to remind herself, she was still only eleven years old. There’s only so many times you can see your father at rock bottom before you give up on him. Debbie didn’t want that for her granddaughter and especially not for her son.

It had been when they finally arrived back to David’s apartment that she finally felt brave enough to bring it up. She’d been hanging up her coat by the door when she summoned the courage to talk to him. After dropping the kids off there was a silence in the car bar the hum of the radio. Silence wasn’t good. They both knew that.

“David. Is everything okay?”

He turned from where he was in the lobby to look at her and he plastered a smile across his face. He did his best to feign a strong exterior. He hadn’t felt the need to hide his emotions for a while and his façade wasn’t what it once was. He wasn’t sure he even fooled himself, never mind his mum.

“Just tired,” he replied, and turned away from her again, emotionless, much like he had been earlier at the zoo. He headed to the kitchen and grabbed himself a beer, hopeful that walking away would get his mother off his back. Of course, it didn’t.

“You were away an affa time, son…” she said, in her thick Glaswegian accent as she appeared behind him. He didn’t turn to face her; he knew she’d see right through him. He grasped the green bottle tightly and took a long deep breath. It was possible that if he turned to face her, he’d start to cry. Or worse, he’d repeat the phrase that got him locked up in the hospital in the first place. **_She’s. not. dead._ **Debbie didn’t break the silence, instead she reached up and placed her hand softly on his tense shoulders. He winced at first and he cursed at himself for doing so, eventually finding the power to let his shoulders relax at the soothing touch of his mother.

“I’m fine,” he finally replied, turning to face her. “Today was just… It was a lot.”

She nodded and rubbed his arm, muttering that she was there if she needed him. He let out a sigh, thankful that his response seemed to placate her, at least for the time being.

* * *

No matter how hard he tried that evening, he could not fall asleep. He tossed, he turned, he flipped pillows, he even tried to read. Nothing stopped the thoughts racing in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about Chanel and the things that she had said

**_It’s Julia.  
That’s where she is._ **

**_She’s not dead.  
_ ** **_She’s not dead.  
_ ** **_She’s not dead._ **

He desperately tried to push the thoughts of Julia from his mind and yet he felt powerless. It was ironic, he thought, that a year after her death, she still had control over him. He still felt a slave to his feelings for her. He thought about her every day since the blast. He wished he hadn’t, he wished every day he could just push the thought of her out of his mind. He remembered their stolen moments in the Blackwood, of course he did, but his last memory of her had haunted him. When he thought about it, he could remember the deafening silence in the auditorium; he could still feel the trickle of blood pouring down his face and the aching in his tired and battered body. He still felt the sting of the dust in the corners of his eyes and the smell of smoke in his nostrils; he could still see the bodies scattered like rag dolls, their blood pooling on the floor, contrasting the white marble. Worst of all, he could still remember the moment he saw her, cast aside on the stage. He could still feel the touch of her bruised skin against his hand. Her body had been warm and if he’d closed his eyes that day he was sure he could have pretended that she was asleep but the black dust that covered her limp and lifeless body, mixed with her fresh crimson blood was a cruel reminder of what had really happened. He still remembered his hands clambering to her neck searching for any signs of life. And he _had_ found it. Her heart was still pumping blood around her body the minute the paramedics pushed him aside to treat her. Thinking back on that day, as he had so many times before, he thought about how he’d never _actually_ seen her body.

It made him feel sick to his core when he finally allowed himself to consider that day again. He remembered seeing and hearing the doctor telling Roger and Julia’s mother that she had died. It had sickened him to his core. He had never felt a feeling like it. His chest had been tight like he was being suffocated, his knees felt weak and he felt nauseous and woozy but he also felt an anger. He hated how Roger had played the dutiful husband. He’d wanted nothing more than to punch Roger over and over. He knew how Roger had treated Julia. Roger didn’t love Julia. He’d wished it was Roger that had died.

 _Those_ thoughts of her were what troubled him. His repeated insistence that she wasn’t dead back then, they were what had troubled everyone else around him and yet, here he was, perched on the end of his bed clad only in his boxers, back at square one, convinced that things just didn’t add up. He pushed himself from his bed and crept to the living room where his laptop lay. He pulled up Google and sure enough, a quick search of her name brought up thousands of results. An official photo of her appeared on the right and he felt his heart tighten at the sight of the woman who’d so quickly entangled herself into his mind. He rarely looked at photos. It hurt too much to see her, just like the writing under her picture.

 **_Died: 4 November 2018, London, United Kingdom  
_ ** **_Cause of Death: Assassination_ **

The headlines certainly didn’t help. He scoured through the headlines about her death and the various attempts on her life and something about it just didn’t make sense. He looked to his phone again and copied the address into his laptop. No wonder he’d never heard of it. Inverculter was almost twelve and a half hours away. And yet despite the distance, despite it being on the tip of the North coast of Scotland he found himself pulling on some jeans and the top he’d discarded by the washing machine that evening. Despite having not slept, despite it being the middle of the night, he pulled on his socks and his shoes and looked for the keys to his car. He was quiet so as to not alert his mum. It was his car so he supposed she couldn’t really stop him but since his stay in the hospital he hadn’t been driving, on mutual consent, and he knew she hid the keys from him. It frustrated him in a way but he understood her reasons. Just not now. Eventually he found them and without thinking any more, he grabbed his coat and pushed his phone into his pocket, leaving the lights on in the living room and his laptop open on the table.

Maybe he had been right all along.

Maybe Julia wasn’t dead.

Whatever it took, wherever he looked, he had to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The question is – Is Julia there? Is she even still alive?! 
> 
> Let me know what you think 😉


End file.
